|main menu | youngsters categories | authors | new stories | search | links | settings | author tools|
|Ballad of Cowboy Bill (standard:westerns, 819 words)|
|Author: Beck Fenton||Added: Jul 09 2004||Views/Reads: 2601/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A tired cowboy and his loyal horse go home after a busy day. Finding gold and surprising rustlers are some of the adventures Bill remembers as he heads to the ranch. There is a surprise twist as he arrives late for supper.|
Ballad of Cowboy Bill Beck Fenton 816 words Bill trudged down the road, his once shiny black boots kicking up puff balls of dust. The setting sun washed the countryside with an eerie rose-lavender tint that went unnoticed by the tired cowboy. Still so far from home. Rumblings in his stomach reminded him how long it had been since his last square meal. Stopping in the middle of the road, Bill dropped his horse Lucky's reins, and searched his jeans diligently for some tidbit to see him through 'til he reached the ranch. His side pockets yielded only gold nuggets and an old arrowhead he'd picked up for luck. Nothing in his hip pockets at all, but in his shirt pocket he found a half stick of gum. Carefully peeling away the tinfoil, stuck to the gum like a layer of skin, Bill decided it was a good substitute for chow. Putting it into his mouth Bill grimaced. It broke into tiny pieces and instead of chewing a gummy mash, Bill found himself concentrating on trying to get the stale pieces to stick together. Satisfied that he had something to occupy his attention, Bill picked up the reins once more and hopped on his patient horse. New energy surged through them both, and for a while they galloped down the homeward trail. But the false energy of stale gum didn't last long, and soon Bill got off Lucky and walked again, dragging his stubborn companion along. Running off those rustlers had taken a lot out of them, but the boss's cattle were safe now. Bill couldn't count the number of dead men he had left behind, but he knew they were all bad men. Closely watching the dusty trail, Bill slowly realized how dark it was getting. Glancing up at the last red cloud in the sky, he heaved a sigh and tried to hurry, but his feet just didn't want to go any faster. At the ranch all the cowpokes would be gathered around the table, as rough and hearty as the food they were about to eat. The cook, whom everyone called Maw, would have already insisted on clean hands and faces and made them take off their hats before digging in. His place would be set for him, but he wouldn't be there. A sigh and a tear escaped from Bill, and he glanced at Lucky, to see if his horse had noticed the signs of his unmanly emotions. Lucky, good friend that he was, stared up at the sky, as if to say, "I don't see you doing anything." The gum in Bill's mouth seemed to lose all it's flavor, and Bill stopped to spit it out, aiming for a bug-bitten daisy growing pitifully at the edge of the trail. It danced a jiggle as it was hit squarely with the discarded wad of gum, and it's head bowed down as Bill followed his first hit with a big glob of spit. Little ants raced around, trying to figure out how God had turned their dinner table into a bathtub. Bill squinted and smiled. It was good to be big and powerful so far from home. Home. The thought hit Bill and he sighed. Home. Looking again at the sky he noticed the graying beginning to settle down around him. Fireflies had already begun to dance in the meadows and he tried to hurry along the road. Bill grinned as his hand hit his pocket with the gold, and he picked up his pace, listening to the jingle of wealth. There. Ahead of him he could see the light of the ranch like a gigantic firefly. He heard his fellow cowpokes calling his name and he hollered, "I'm coming!" The last leg of the journey seemed to fly as Bill ran, Lucky jumping and bumping behind him. Reaching the porch steps, Bill stopped abruptly, looking up into the boss's stern face. Bill took his hat off and dropped the reins. The boss narrowed his steely blue eyes and peered down at his youngest cowboy. "You're late son." Bill gulped and swallowed. Digging in his pocket for the gold, he held up the rocks and mustered a grin. "Yeah. But I found us a fortune in gold and I fought off a pack of low-down cattle rustlers, and I found a real arrowhead, and..." "Come on, Bill. Time for supper. Let's get you washed up. Your Mom's kept your food warm for you," Dad reached out to the little boy and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Eat first. Then you can tell us all how you saved our cattle. Pick up Lucky and bring him in. Lean him in the corner for now." As the five-year old hopped over the door sill he heard his Maw call out, "Welcome home, Pard-nuh." Bill knew everything was all right in his little corner of the world. Tweet
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Beck Fenton has 2 active stories on this site.
Profile for Beck Fenton, incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.